The Birth of an Immortal
by Rosy the Cat
Summary: A one shot look at Blaise's birth, from her mother's perspective.  This is a prequel to The Life and Times of a Girl Named Blaise Zabini.  Death, Delirium and Destiny abound.  But mostly Death.  And not in the way she does in most stories, either.


The Birth of an Immortal  
  
By Rosy the Cat  
  
Summary: A one shot look at Blaise's birth, from her mother's perspective.   
  
This is a prequel to The Life and Times of a Girl Named Blaise Zabini.   
  
Death, Delirium and Destiny abound. But mostly Death. And not in the way   
  
she does in most stories, either.   
  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and   
  
owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to   
  
Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros.,   
  
Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement   
  
is intended.   
  
The Lord of the Rings belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, probably his family,   
  
and New Line Cinemas, and probably a bunch of other people.   
  
The Sandman belongs to Neil Gaiman, and DC Comics/Vertigo.   
  
*************************  
  
"Holy mother-frickin' ship!!!"  
  
What the hell?! Is the multiverse laughing at me?! Has creation itself   
  
decided I've spent too many of these little vacations as a mortal having   
  
fun?! What the heck is going on?!?  
  
"Miss, please, you have to push!"  
  
Push? Push what? Why?   
  
...Ow.   
  
...Ow.   
  
...OW.   
  
...OW!   
  
"What the heck is happening?!?"   
  
The man, who I now see is wearing surgical scrubbie-things (I don't know   
  
why they're called scrubs. Just another weird human/mortal thing, I   
  
suppose), looks up at me from where he's been looking under a sheet   
  
that's spread over my legs, which I now realize are in stirrups or   
  
something.   
  
Hey, get away from there! The last time a guy was near there... *blush*   
  
...Okay, try not to remember the nice young Elf with is very nice hair   
  
and his extra-nice... / ahem! /   
  
The doctor gives me this look. I've seen it before, when I'm in a delivery   
  
room and the mother or the baby is scheduled to go with me, but I like kids   
  
so I usually show up for those jobs a bit early. See the little cuties.   
  
Besides, I play a part in the baby being born, whether it dies then or   
  
not. I send them off to where they think they should go at the end, and   
  
I'm there (to a lesser extent) to give them a little Bon Voyage party as   
  
they start up a new life. Kids are a hoot.   
  
Anyway, the doctor guy's giving me the "Let's Humor The Crazy Pregnant   
  
Lady" look. I'm serious, that look is almost universal! Midwives all over   
  
the multiverse have independently developed that look! Which means that...  
  
Oh my.   
  
No.   
  
Not that.   
  
This CANNOT be HAPPENING!!! Whoever heard of Death having kids?! Not me,   
  
that's for sure, and I should KNOW!!!   
  
I swear, if this is another of Desire's pranks, I'm going to kick his/her   
  
sorry ass! I can't even go to see Dream and get parenting advice, since   
  
he's been locked up for almost seventy years! ...Not that I'd take his   
  
advice, since his parenting skills suck, but dangit!   
  
*sniff*  
  
My existence sucks.   
  
And, oh, here comes the pain again! I swear, I'm never gonna give Calliope   
  
a bad time about her bitching over giving birth again.   
  
...  
  
Although, this is definitely a new experience. I've certainly never   
  
considered that this would happen before. This can go into my diary with   
  
all of the new things I experienced as a mortal on my one day each century.   
  
Right after sleeping with...  
  
Hey...waitaminnit...  
  
Is it just me, or can I still sense life forces? Why doesn't the baby's   
  
feel like all the other human babies I've been around before? Sure,   
  
Orpheus wasn't normal, but that's a given. He's family. This aura feels   
  
almost like...  
  
No.   
  
It can't be.   
  
...Oh my... The baby's Immortal.   
  
And not in the "created by human beliefs so we last as long as we are   
  
remembered" sort of immortal. Even "gods" can die. No, this is Immortal   
  
with a distinct capital "I". Only Elves (not the fey kind, stupid; the   
  
bow-and-arrow-shooting, graceful-as-hell kind!) and people with a whole   
  
lot of Elven blood in their heritage (half elves, quarter elves, that   
  
sort of thing) are Immortal. They don't die. Well, not permanently,   
  
anyway. People with a little Elven blood tend to be on the pretty side,   
  
and just live longer than most mortals.   
  
Now, this leaves few options as to how the baby got there. Either it's   
  
an Immaculate Conception (which I highly doubt; none of the Angels or   
  
anything like that have ever liked hanging around with me; I think the   
  
fact that I'm older than them intimidates 'em, and they're all older   
  
than dirt themselves!), or I'm possessing the body of some girl that   
  
had the questionable luck to boink an Elf, then get pregnant (actually,   
  
considering I've had that sort of experience, and considering just how   
  
few High Elves there still are wandering around, I'd say she's lucky.   
  
But that's me).   
  
But, no, a quick inventory of this body's memories just show the usual   
  
manufactured memories, including a fake, conveniently dead, family, and   
  
some memories of going into labor in a cab, of all things. How cliché   
  
can things get?   
  
Anyhoo, here I am, in a Hospital, giving birth. Oh, by the way, all the   
  
time I was considering my situation, I was letting the body go on auto-  
  
pilot, trying to get the baby out. I guess I'll find out the whole   
  
answer to my eternal question of "Huh?!" once the kid's out. I'll be   
  
able to get a better look at its aura that way.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
An hour later...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
...Gah...  
  
I swear, if that moron of a doctor had had to say "Just one more push"   
  
one more time, I'd've shoved my foot up his ass, and told *him* to push!   
  
Men are so insensitive...  
  
And did I just think that? Gah, methinks the hormones are still wonky...  
  
"Miss? Would you like to hold her?"  
  
Blinking sleepily (yeesh, I don't think I've *ever* been this tired   
  
before!), I nod and hold out my arms to take the baby.   
  
A few shifts to settle the kid in place, and I have one arm free to move   
  
the blanket from her face.   
  
And quickly move it back part-way. Yup, she's part Elf, all right! I'm   
  
lucky the nurses haven't seemed to notice that her ears are pointy.   
  
Oh ship.   
  
How am I gonna pull this off? I have to get out of here before the poop   
  
hits the gale-force-wind fan.   
  
Well, the nurses are leaving, saying that I should have some "bonding time"   
  
with the baby. Sorry, girls, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave that till   
  
later; I've got to get out of here!   
  
I don't quite know how, but I managed to get myself out of that bed and   
  
to the little locker where I figured they might have put my clothes.   
  
Score! Apparently, the multiverse has decided to stop laughing at me for   
  
a bit and give me a break. There's a good-sized backpack stuffed in here,   
  
and it's got some comfy clothes that look like something I'd wear. Whatever   
  
maternity clothes I'd been wearing are probably either being washed or   
  
were ruined when I went into labor. Well, at least I won't look like a   
  
stick wearing a tent...  
  
Quick scrub of my face and hands later (no time for a shower; the nurses   
  
might come back, and I *really* don't want to leave the kid lying on the   
  
bed by herself longer than necessary) along with a change of clothes and   
  
I'm back in business. Now I have to figure out how to get out of here   
  
without calling down security upon me.   
  
Or maybe I've been watching too many movies, because a quick look out the   
  
window says that I'm on the third floor and, miracle of miracles, there's   
  
a fire escape two feet from my window ledge, which is rather wide.   
  
Yay small favors.   
  
Snagging the complementary hospital-provided diaper bag, which I hope has...  
  
YES! DISPOSABLE DIAPERS! And baby wipes. And an ever-so-cute tiny bottle   
  
of baby powder. And a couple bottles with a canister of formula for emergencies.   
  
Well, it seems somebody on some plane of existence figured I'd need to bolt.   
  
So, anyway, grabbed the bag, managed to stuff it into the backpack, pulled   
  
that on and tightened the straps so I wouldn't have to worry about it   
  
flopping all over the place, snagged an extra blanket and that cute little   
  
knitted cap that the baby managed to ditch the first chance she got,   
  
wrapped her up all snug and cozy, turned the extra blanket into a sling   
  
to leave my arms free, opened the window, and out I went.   
  
Okay, first thing I figured out was it was cold. DAMN COLD. The second   
  
thing was that I was in England. Could have been southern Scotland, but   
  
at least I knew the general area. This wasn't too new. I've been to   
  
England plenty of times. Third thing was that I recognized the city.   
  
Well, the river and the cute picturesque bridge in the distance, to be   
  
specific.   
  
...Okay, I know when reality's trying to knock some sense into me, and I   
  
figure this is the last bit of evidence I need to prove the theory that   
  
was already proving to be the most likely. The baby is Legolas'.   
  
"Well, short, nearly bald and cute, I don't suppose you have any idea where   
  
we'd have to go to find your dad, do you?" I absent-mindedly asked my   
  
daughter even as I shakily made the short jump from the windowsill to the   
  
fire escape. I'm definitely going to have to find a way to get to Legolas,   
  
wherever he is, quickly, and find a way to rest up while I'm at it.   
  
As I make my way down the fire escape, pausing to make sure nobody in the   
  
rooms whose widows I get close to see me every once in a while, I mentally   
  
go over what I know about Legolas.   
  
One: he prefers to live in more rural areas, preferably with some woods or   
  
a forest nearby. That drastically cuts down on possibilities here in Jolly   
  
Olde England; the Industrial Revolution took out a lot of the native forests.   
  
Two: his current alias is Lance Green. ...Don't give me that look! He was   
  
damn nummifull, and the first guy I'd slept with in...Yeesh, *I* don't even   
  
remember! Anyway, he was memorable, and I wanted to keep track of him, see   
  
if he wanted to hang out or something later.   
  
Three: he and his wife are separated, and have been for a damn long time.   
  
Not divorced, separated. She went to Vali-wherever, and he stayed behind   
  
with their daughter, who was a toddler at the time. Technically, he cheated   
  
on his wife when we had our thing. It made me feel all sorts of guilty   
  
when I realized that, but it's not like I can undo this. Hello, baby   
  
right here!   
  
Four: He's been a grandfather. Four times. All boys, and all from his   
  
daughter's various maternal impulses over the millennia.   
  
Well, at least it's not like he won't know how to handle a baby or anything.   
  
Because, no matter how much I'd like to take care of the kid myself, I'm not   
  
gonna delusion myself into thinking that I could just take a few decades off   
  
of my job to play stay-at-home-Mom. Plus, hello, I'm Death! Being around me   
  
wouldn't really be healthy for a little kid.   
  
...Have I mentioned that my existence sucks? Okay, I'm down the fire escape,   
  
managed to get around the guards by hopping the hedges 'n stuff. Now I've got   
  
to find a phone or something.   
  
Yes! Golden Arches! Mickie-D's! Two saving graces for the price of one: food   
  
and phones! A Big Mac, fries and an iced tea later (I don't know what caffeine   
  
might do to my body as far as my built-in baby-feeding facilities go, so I'm   
  
not gonna risk it), I'm happy, fed, and I've got change for the phone. A quick   
  
trip to the bathroom to check the baby's diaper and feed her without people   
  
staring and we're both happy and fed. You know, I've got to think of a name   
  
for her. She's just too gosh-darn cute to go for too long without a name. I   
  
think I'll wait until I've had a chance to talk to Legolas first, though.   
  
Elves can get a bit gung-ho about naming kids, now that I think about it.   
  
"Well, the day isn't getting any longer, and we've gotta track down your   
  
dad, munchkin," I finally remark to her uber-cuteness after having burped   
  
her. Leaving the women's bathroom, I walk over to the small bank of pay   
  
phones, put the required amount of money in, and dial for the operator. I   
  
shift the baby's weight to let us both be as comfortable as possible.   
  
We're probably gonna be here for a while.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
An hour and a half later...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"No, you're not listening to me! I just want his number! ...Why? Because   
  
he's won the lottery; no, I've already told you, you fat cow- Don't argue   
  
with me! You sound like a frickin' bovine! ...I'm the mother of his   
  
frickin' kid! ...Oh, hell, now she's crying! You hear that? Because   
  
you're being an obstinate moron, *I* have a crying baby! People her   
  
age shouldn't be upset, dammit, Bossy the Cow!"  
  
Huh, this whole indignant maternal thing is kinda fun. Unfortunately,   
  
I really don't have the time. For all I know, someone from the hospital   
  
could come walking in at any moment. I don't know what reason they might   
  
have to be upset with me, but they probably would be on sheer principle.   
  
There was probably a bunch of legal stuff I was supposed to deal with   
  
before I left. Plus, though I still technically have most of my twenty-  
  
four hours left, I don't know how long it'll take to get to Legolas, or   
  
for him to get to me. Now, if only Ms. Something-Disgusting-And-Mildly-  
  
Poisionous-Crawled-Up-My-Ass-And-Died would give me Legolas' phone number,   
  
I'd be in business.   
  
"...Finally! Yes, thank you, though I wonder why you didn't just give   
  
it to me half an hour ago. Yes, bye. ...You too, Prissy Pants Stone-  
  
caster!"   
  
Yay! Now I can call up the extremely handsome and flexible Elf-guy!   
  
...But I suppose you people didn't want to hear that last part.   
  
More change in the phone, dial the number, and I wait.   
  
Phone ringing.   
  
...  
  
More ringing.   
  
...  
  
More ringing.   
  
...  
  
Mo- Yes! Somebody picked up! Please be Legolas, Please be Legolas...  
  
"*sniffle* H- hello?"  
  
Oh crudnugget. Crying. Crying people are not good when you have something   
  
weird yet important to say. That's something I've learned, if anything.   
  
"Umm, yeah, hi, is this Lance Green's number?" Please don't be a wrong   
  
number. Please let the evil operator not have given me the wrong number   
  
out of spite, because, if she did, I just may have to kick her ass. But   
  
not kill her. Nope, Death doesn't kill.   
  
...Although, technically...  
  
Okay, shutting up *that* train of thought!   
  
"*hiccup!* Y- yes, this is his number. May I ask who is calling, please?"  
  
(thinkfastthinkfast!) "Teleute Black. We're...acquaintances," she finished,   
  
mentally wincing.   
  
"One moment, please. I'll go fetch him...*sniff* ...I'm sorry, but we've   
  
had a death in the family recently, and-"  
  
Somebody died? I don't remember anyone related to Legolas being scheduled   
  
to go. ...Then again, who knows? I guess I'll find out soon, and, if I   
  
don't, I can always check tomorrow. It's nice to have more than one aspect   
  
of myself so I can be in more than one place at a time.   
  
"I'm really sorry about that, and I would just call back later, but it's   
  
*REALLY* important, Ms. ...?"  
  
"Oh, how terribly rude of me! Dallandra Zabini. I'm Mister Green's daughter."  
  
You're not the only one, kid... Maybe her husband died? He wouldn't be   
  
technically related to Legolas, and it might have skipped my notice on   
  
that front. I know it isn't any of her sons; they have all been dead for   
  
a long time. And, naturally, they went out being all noble and heroic   
  
and stuff.   
  
"Nice to meet you, but if I could please speak with your father...?"  
  
"Certainly. Again, one moment, please."   
  
...  
  
Doo-dee-doo-doo...  
  
...  
  
Really getting bored...  
  
...Aww, look at the baby! She's all yawning and looking cute! Cute lil'   
  
dimples, cute lil' chubby cheeks, and- Hot dog! She's got dark eyes to   
  
go with her equally dark hair! Mu-haha, I have succeeded in putting my   
  
mark on the Elven gene pool! No gray eyes for *my* daughter.   
  
Anyhoot...  
  
Somebody's picking up the phone again! Oh happy day!   
  
"...Teleute. To what do I owe the honor?"  
  
I wince. Death in the family, he might take it out on me. Not that it's   
  
my fault, considering the fact that I don't pick who stays and who goes.   
  
I just do my job.   
  
"Hey, Legolas," I start, keeping my voice down so I don't attract the   
  
attention of eavesdroppers. That would stink. "Umm, look, I know things   
  
are kinda still off with us, but something's happened, and it involves   
  
you."  
  
Silence.   
  
"Does this something involve my granddaughter, or would that be beneath   
  
your notice?"  
  
I grit my teeth, closing my eyes and counting to ten. Sometimes it works.   
  
"Look, Legolas, you know how my job works; I don't have a choice. Besides,   
  
I've been kinda out of the loop for the past three hours or so. I'm sorry   
  
about the kid, but it's not like I can wave my hands and magic her back   
  
to life. In any case, I really need your help. You do remember what today   
  
is the anniversary of, right?"  
  
Silence. Oh, crud, I forgot! That night he'd been celebrating the anniversary   
  
of his wife leaving him by getting drunk off his rocker! "I mean anniversary   
  
as in how it pertains to me, Legolas."  
  
More silence, then- "Yes, I remember. So you are mortal again. I do not   
  
see how that is important."  
  
...Okay, it's time to stop being so damn sensitive. "Legolas," I purred,   
  
wincing all the while as I remember the guilt both of us felt afterwards,   
  
"You do remember what happened that night, right?"  
  
"...Yes..."  
  
"Oh, joy. Now, you're a big boy, so of course you know what can happen   
  
during such a thing, right?"  
  
"...Teleute, get to the point, or by Elbereth I'll-!"  
  
"I got pregnant, Legolas."  
  
...  
  
"...What?" He managed to croak out. It sounded kinda funny, to be   
  
honest. I tried to picture the look on his face, but had to shove that   
  
aside when it threatened to make me burst out into laughter.   
  
"Pregnant, Legolas. A few hours ago I was in labor."  
  
"..."  
  
"She's making some rather cute sounds right now; you want to hear?" I   
  
asked, then, without waiting for his answer, I put the mouthpiece for   
  
the phone near the baby's mouth. Not too near, since I didn't know what   
  
kinda stuff might be on it, but plenty close enough for it to pick up   
  
baby sounds. After a couple minutes I put the phone back up to my ear.   
  
"So?"  
  
"...Where are you? Do you need someone to check you out of the hospital?"  
  
"No, I got myself out, and before anybody noticed her pointy ears, too.   
  
I'm in...Well, I don't know the name of the town, but it's the same   
  
place we met. I'm currently in the McDonald's. Could you pick me up,   
  
or at least give me some directions to get to you?"   
  
"...No, I'll be there in a few minutes to get you. I just have to   
  
arrange transportation for us, and then I'll be over. Stay put."   
  
"Aye-aye, Captain Tall-Blond-and-Cute!"  
  
"...Please don't call me that; ever."   
  
"Sure, Legolas. See you soon."   
  
"Quite."   
  
There was a click from him hanging up, and then I put the receiver back   
  
into it's cradle-thingie.   
  
"Well," I commented to my daughter, whom I shifted from my now very tired   
  
and sore arm, "That's it, and your daddy's on his way."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Four hours later, after a rather interesting trip via portkey and having   
  
explained the situation to Dallandra and Death having taken a well-earned   
  
nap...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
...Gah. Well, if my little romp through my baby brother's realm has   
  
anything to indicate the over-all state of the Dreaming, here's hoping   
  
that Dream'll either find a way out, or he'll get over himself and call   
  
for some help. The over-all quality of REM sleep has gone down the tubes.   
  
A few minutes of searching later, and I've found Legolas and Dallandra,   
  
the latter of the two alternating between taking part in the conversation   
  
and cooing over the baby. Legolas is mostly focused on some old guy that   
  
I don't know, but he's noticed me and nodded me in. Well, let's see what's   
  
going on, shall we? Old Guy (heh, I'm still older!) is speaking to Dallandra.   
  
"...I agree, Dallandra, that this child will need to be cared for, but,   
  
as to how we shall go about it, I don't know. Birth certification is   
  
rather simple to procure, but keeping yours and your father's secret from   
  
the Wizarding community when news of this gets out; that is the question.   
  
You know the Ministry's view on non-humans."  
  
"...And she's about as non-human as you can get, we know, Albus," Legolas'   
  
voice interjected. "Both the Ministry and Voldemort would see her either   
  
as a tool to be used, or a threat to be destroyed. Neither, however, will   
  
lay so much as a fingertip on a fraction of her hair, if I have anything   
  
to say about it!"   
  
Dang, he sounds all...I don't know what, but I like it...paternal, I guess...  
  
when he's being protective! But, in any case, it's time to make my presence   
  
known.   
  
"What he said. Anybody who messes with *my* baby is going to...Well,   
  
they wouldn't be happy by the time I was done, dangit!"  
  
Legolas just smiles at me, shaking his head in amusement. I'm not funny,   
  
dangit! I'm all serious and...and...  
  
Damn hormones.   
  
"Albus, might I introduce you to Teleute, or Death of the Endless? Teleute,   
  
this is Professor Albus Dumbledore. He is a former student of Dallandra's."  
  
"Hey, call me Didi." I wave absent-mindedly and I make a quick bee-line for   
  
the baby, scooping her up. Dallandra is looking a bit wistful, which I   
  
suppose is understandable, what with her daughter being dead and all.   
  
Oh.   
  
Oh!   
  
I think I just thought of a way to, well, not *fix,* per say, since there   
  
isn't really anything broken here, but at least make things easier.   
  
Dallandra gets a cute-as-a-button squirt to raise, and Legolas can keep   
  
said squirt safe. Going by the looks Legolas was sporting when he picked   
  
us up at the McDonald's, he's too "old" to pass as the father of a newborn,   
  
unless he wants to get weird looks.   
  
But, then again, we run into the little problem that is Elves and their   
  
speed of development. No half-elf could be passed as a mortal, even with   
  
that spiffy glamour that the Elves have. The kid's mind and body wouldn't   
  
be able to compete with those of its human contemporaries for centuries,   
  
and then the point would be moot.   
  
Hmm, I think there are a few deities who owe me favors...  
  
While I'm looking at the big picture, the others are mulling over the   
  
immediate problems, which, hey, I've already got the answer to!   
  
"Guys...?"  
  
Still yakking.   
  
"Guys?"  
  
More yakking.   
  
*very LOUD, very SHRILL whistle!* "YO! PEOPLE WHO ARE YOUNGER THAN ME!?"   
  
Well, that got their attention.   
  
They look at me, but only the guy with the beard...Dumbledore?...and the   
  
kid are looking amused. The two Elves are looking rather irritated.   
  
"Look, nobody but us know that Legolas' granddaughter is dead, right?"  
  
Nods all around. Looks like progress, but Dallandra looks like she's gonna   
  
start up an Old Faithful impression. "Okay, well, Dallandra, just as a   
  
rough estimate, do you think my kid could pass as your husband's?"  
  
Quick peeks from everybody else, a short round of "Aww, look at the baby!",   
  
and they were back, everybody nodding. I nod, then continue.   
  
"And, since you're both sisters, she'll probably end up looking enough like   
  
you to pass for yours. Your husband knows you're an elf, right? Could you   
  
tell him about all of this?"  
  
Nervous shifting from the other female, then, "No, he does not. I was   
  
planning on telling him after we married, but things became...complicated."  
  
"...Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Anyway, here's my idea. The baby stays with you,   
  
and you make sure nobody ever suspects she's not yours. Once she's old   
  
enough, we tell her everything.   
  
"As for the whole aging problem," which, going by the sheepish looks on   
  
the others' faces, they hadn't considered, "There're some people I know   
  
who owe me favors, and can take care of that. She'll probably stop aging   
  
again when she's in her early to mid twenties, but by then she'll be able   
  
to handle herself."  
  
Legolas was obviously going over the plan in his head, making sure that   
  
there weren't any flaws to it. Coming to the conclusion that there really   
  
weren't any, he nodded his agreement, turning to Dumbledore.   
  
"Albus, if you could see to the legal formalities...?"  
  
Dumbledore nods, then heads out of the room towards the front door.   
  
"Well, that's settled! So, Legolas, what're we going to name this munchkin   
  
of ours?"  
  
Groans abound.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Five years later, the Dreaming...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
*sniff* "I want my mummy! It's scary here!"  
  
I wince, watching my ickle munchkin, my Elessario, wandering around   
  
Nightmare. Oddly enough, this part of the Dreaming used to be devoted   
  
to little kids' dreams, but Nightmares have been encroaching lately on   
  
normally sunnier places, and she accidentally stumbled right into it.   
  
*hiccup!* "Mummy! I want my mummy!"  
  
Oh, screw this watching and waiting! I'll apologize to Dream for barging   
  
in when he gets out; right now, my daughter's hysterical.   
  
"Hey, munchkin. Need some help?"  
  
She jumps back instinctively, which I really can't blame her for. Her   
  
nightmare looks like a cross between a carnival haunted house and a dungeon,   
  
with lots of blood and oogie stuff around the edges.   
  
Just what kind of stuff has she been around lately?!   
  
"Wh- who are you?"  
  
I smile. I like kids, and kids generally have fewer problems with me than   
  
adults, by and large. I think it's because they haven't had as long to get   
  
used to living and stuff.   
  
"Just a friend. I know a way out; you wanna come along?"  
  
She's looking at me kinda warily. Her self-image is strong, but I can see   
  
the real her underneath, where even she can't see yet.   
  
"...Okay..." She finally relents, and takes my hand.   
  
A second later, we're back in a much nicer part of the Dreaming, far away   
  
from Nightmare. She sees a passing butterfly that catches her interest,   
  
and darts off to chase it, laughing in that way only a little kid can.   
  
I sense her long before she makes any noise.   
  
"Hey, baby sister. How are things in your neck of the woods?"   
  
Delirium, my youngest sibling (though even *we* aren't sure how that can   
  
be, since we've all existed since before the beginning, and we'll still   
  
be here after the end; hence the name Endless), who used to be called   
  
Delight, steps up from behind me to next to me, absent-mindedly fiddling   
  
with her currently-silver bobbed hair.   
  
"Hey, Death. What's going on?"  
  
"Not much. Hanging out, keeping' an eye on my kid."  
  
*blink-blink* "You had a kid? That's really weird. I once had a kid,   
  
but then I realized I hadn't, and...ya know, stuff happens, right?"   
  
*mental sweatdrop*   
  
I love my sibs to bits, but Del comes up with some of the weirdest   
  
stuff some times.   
  
"...She seems kinda nice, ya know? I think that's my butterfly she   
  
just caught."   
  
I smile to myself. Elessario, who thinks her name is Blaise, is carefully   
  
cupping her hands around the multi-colored butterfly, showing an unusual   
  
level of coordination for someone her age. "...Yup, really nice kid. Like   
  
her dad."   
  
Putting my arm around my sister, whose hair is now seafoam-green and in   
  
dreds, I start leading her off away from the Dreaming. "Say, Del, how   
  
about you and me go hang out, have some quality sisterly bonding time?   
  
I'm feeling a hankering for company of the family kind."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Seven years later, Destiny's Garden...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"...So, what do you think? Anything I should be on the lookout for?"  
  
Destiny of the Endless doesn't look up from his Book, seated on one of   
  
the stone benches lining one of the paths in the Garden.   
  
"You know that I cannot tell you such things, my sister," Destiny intoned   
  
quietly. "Your daughter is coming into her power, more and more steadily   
  
now that she knows the truth, at least in part. More I cannot say."  
  
I let out an annoyed gust of air, combating the urge to grab that damn   
  
book of his and beat him over the head with it.   
  
"Come on, there's got to be *something* you can tell me!" I pause. "How   
  
about that Elf spirit-guy she met earlier this year? How's that gonna   
  
turn out?"  
  
Destiny seems to be thinking about it. He opens the book, flipping a few   
  
pages back, finds what he's looking for, and then looks up.   
  
"There are many paths that could be the result."  
  
I roll my eyes. "That's kind of a given, all things considered. Anything   
  
more specific?"   
  
He starts closing the book, but now I'm pretty annoyed. He's being   
  
unusually close-lipped about this, even more so than usual. That makes   
  
me even more curious. I grab the book from him before it's closed, my   
  
finger managing to save the page he was looking at so intently.   
  
"Death-!"  
  
I stare. What I see on this single page brings up all kinds of weird   
  
thoughts and feelings. I can feel the emotions almost zipping across my   
  
face, finally settling on laugh-my-butt-off amused. Then I start cracking   
  
up, handing the book back to Destiny.   
  
"Bwa-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAaaaaaaah- hoo! Only in this   
  
family could something like this happen..." *giggle!*   
  
I start heading away, waving absent-mindedly behind myself. I guess I'd   
  
better double-check my diary. I don't want to get behind and forget stuff.   
  
It'll be important later...   
  
*************************  
  
The End!   
  
Jeebus, I don't know whether to thank my muse or take a baseball bat to   
  
it for this story. I started this on Monday the 27th, when I was supposed   
  
to be writing essays which are a major part of my grade. The majority of   
  
he story was written then, and finished up today, Tuesday the 28th.   
  
Gah.   
  
The good thing is that I managed to get one of my essays written this   
  
morning before finishing this up. The bad news is that I still have   
  
five to six pages left to write of the longer of the two essays. And   
  
this one is due tomorrow.   
  
Joy.   
  
Anyway, I was originally planning to do something like this as a flashback   
  
scene at some point for Life and Times, but, well, this got out of hand,   
  
and ended up a heck of a lot bigger than I ever intended. Even after I   
  
realized that it would be better to make this a one shot prequel, I didn't   
  
think it would end up nearly as massive as it did. I think I got my first   
  
inkling when I was at page five (where Death is fleeing the hospital), and   
  
Legolas hadn't even made his first appearance in the story. The second hint   
  
I had was when I got to the whole "Bossy the Cow" joke, and, after I finished   
  
cracking up and did a quick word count, and the story was already almost long   
  
enough to be a Schnoogle chapter. And I just realized that this is even longer   
  
than Sleeping Beauty! Eek!  
  
Well, anyhoot, I'm just glad that this is out of my head and on paper now.   
  
Hopefully once finals are over my writer's block will continue to stay far,   
  
far away, and I can put out material on a more frequent basis.   
  
Ja ne, see you later, and I hope you liked the story!   
  
-- Rosy the Cat  
  
5-27-03  
  
Revised for correlating content and terminology.   
  
-- Rosy the Cat  
  
4-29-04 


End file.
